In my previous post I talked about how I was contacted by the director of pastoral services at Duke University Hospital.Once a month, the chapel invites speakers from various faith traditions to talk to doctors, nurses, social workers, and other hospital staff.The director had contacted me almost a year ago, asking me to give a short presentation focusing on a Pagan perspective on health, healing, life, and death.

Last May, right after I finished graduate school and earned my master’s degree in social work, I was contacted by the director of pastoral services at Duke University Hospital. This fine gentleman has been working to put together interfaith lectures and dialogues, and asked if I’d be willing to offer a Pagan perspective to the mix.

We all know that the holiday season can be incredibly stressful, no matter which holidays one celebrates this time of year.This season has always been hard on me, but this year it’s a lot worse.So when I found myself crying in my boss’ office for practically no reason at all, I knew I needed to start practicing what social workers and other healthcare professionals refer to as “self-care.”"

I did some traveling in September, and I’m about to do some more traveling throughout the end of October.While making a to-do list and going through some computer documents I found this little travel charm, and it reminded me how important it is to protect oneself, whether traveling near or far.

A friend of mine hosted the Lughnasadh celebration for our multi-tradition ritual group, and she asked me if I’d help her out and take some speaking parts. I accepted, and I made sure to go over my lines before we gathered. We even practiced together before the ritual began, which should have meant that I was prepared for my cues and that the script should have flowed smoothly and beautifully.

Only it didn’t because naturally I missed my cue and had to stumble to find my place and get the ritual back on track while everyone waited patiently for me to get my act together. I was a little embarrassed of course, but no one really minded (or if they did they were gracious and didn’t make me feel bad.) But I’ve been thinking about this moment a lot since the ritual, held at the end of July. Maybe I missed my cue because I just wasn’t paying attention and I’m easily distracted, but I’d like to think that I missed my cue because the ritual was actually working, that the message our talented hostess was trying to share with the group was coming across to me loud and clear.

I recently received some particularly hurtful and insulting comments from a family member concerning Paganism.These comments came as a great surprise to me, and also served as a wake-up call.Being a Space Witch isn’t all moonshine and glitter, unfortunately.

Thumping beats, crashing drums, melodic instruments, ecstatic signing, rhythmic pulsing, sweat pouring from your skin, a crowd surging together as one, shouting, screaming, chanting, touching, pounding heartbeats, flashing lights, the scent of alcohol and bodies, drops of sweat and water and saliva spraying over everyone and then you go home with your ears ringing, lying in bed thinking in the darkness “what in the heavens just happened?”

Not every concert I go to is an ecstatic experience, but there have been a few times when I’ve known deep down in my heart of hearts that the people I was watching on stage weren’t just making music, but they were putting on a show. Deliberate or not, they were channeling something different, something special, and the crowd was totally sharing in that experience with them. These moments can be rare and meaningful, and in some cases, completely cathartic and cleansing.